


Hot Under the Collar

by Terminallydepraved



Series: Works for Others [2]
Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: First Dates, M/M, phinks is a fuckin loser waffle, secondhand embarrassment out the ass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-13 02:00:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5690275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terminallydepraved/pseuds/Terminallydepraved
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>First dates are usually nerve-wracking. Phinks takes it to a whole new level.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hot Under the Collar

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote a fic for yougei!! he asked for embarrassing phinkuro date so i delivered. enjoy~

“I really can’t believe Phinks got him to say yes.”

“Pity probably. No way Chrollo would go on real date.”

“Oh come on Fei, that’s just mean! I bet Phinks has plenty of good qualities.”

“Yeah, like faint easy.”

Phinks bit the inside of his cheek and tried to restrain his temper. “I’m right here you know,” he practically hissed over his shoulder. Shalnark and Feitan were lounging on his bed, gossiping and shit-talking like they hadn’t been invited over to help him get ready. “Why don’t you stop talking and start helping, like you both promised!”

At least Shalnark had the decency to look contrite, hiding his face behind his cellphone and whatever game he had found to play this week. Feitan just kicked his feet and grinned. “Not enough help in world to fix you in time for date,” he joked, sliding off the mattress to join Phinks inside his closet. “You look pathetic no matter what you wear.”

As much as he wanted to argue back, one look at his wardrobe was enough to show that he wasn’t the most fashion-conscious individual. It was part of the reason why he had even bothered to call them over. He had been stressing over what to wear for the past week, and with only hours until his date he had yet to find something even close to decent. Chrollo was such a classy type, calm, collected, and beautiful. Nervous energy sat coiled in his stomach, making his palms sweat and his ears burn. He was so going to fuck this up.

“Seriously, guys,” Phinks implored, half-considering hiding in his closet for the next ten years. “I have no idea what to wear. You gotta help me.”

Something in his tone must have gotten through to them because there was no responding jeer or barb. Feitan hip bumped him out of the closet, a frown on his face. “Go breathe before you faint again. We help.”

Relief shot through his veins with a drug-like intensity and he stumbled to the bed, falling into the sheets face first. His nose wrinkled, feeling the crumbs from the snacks Feitan had no doubt eaten during his earlier freak out, but it was a small price to pay in exchange for help in his darkest hour of need. Shalnark patted his head and cooed something before joining Feitan in the closet, the both of them tossing shirts and pants around as they dug through the mess for something even remotely nice.

The cool pillow heated up quickly enough when he considered how excited Chrollo had seemed, how he smiled and touched his hand. Phinks groaned loudly and tried to smother himself. There was absolutely no way he could go through with this. He should just call and tell Chrollo he’s sick, that something came up, that he had a tragic accident and is lying mortally wounded in a ditch somewhere and oh holy god Phinks couldn’t do this, he was going to fuck it up—

Something chose that moment to hit him in the head.

“Stop crying,” Feitan called out, still buried in the closet depths. “Dress and fix face before I hurt you.”

Phinks pulled the heavy garment bag off his face, staring down at it in confusion. “Don’t you think this is a little much?” he asked, side-eying the outfit. A shiny dress shoe came flying out of the closet, narrowly missing his face. He just barely dodged the second.

Feitan poked his head out, apparently having been crawling around hunting for the shoes. “Chrollo classy. You not. You have to try harder.” Above him, Shalnark smiled encouragingly, giving him the thumbs up.

Swallowing the butterflies fluttering up his throat, he took the bag in hand. Yeah, he thought. Chrollo was so classy, so cool and poised. Anything else and he would look out of place beside him. Phinks sat up and looked at his friends, at their wide smiles and he felt his spirit bolstered.

He could do this. He could totally do this.

oOo

Staring at the menu in front of him, Phinks could resoundingly say that no, he could seriously not do this.

Chrollo sat across from him, gorgeous as ever in a slim button up and jeans. He was smiling gently, his eyes laughing, and any other time Phinks would have been drinking it in. Right now though, he flushed horribly and shifted in his seat.

“You look very handsome, Phinks,” Chrollo offered, obviously sensing his embarrassment. “I love a man in a nice suit. Or, you know, tux.”

Face growing even redder, Phinks resisted the urge to hide behind his menu. “Thanks,” he managed to get out, ignoring the relaxed restaurant around them. “You look great, amazing.” The starched collar of his tuxedo was approaching constricting at this point and he tugged nervously at his cufflinks. He was so overdressed for this place, he kept thinking, taking in the simple space, the paper menus and booth seating. The napkins weren’t even cloth.

His date seemed to notice him glancing around, using it to further the very one-sided conversation. “I think you’ll really love this place. Nobunaga recommended it to me and he said it’s got great sushi.”

Sushi? What the hell was sushi? Phinks looked at the menu and felt his face go pale. He couldn’t read anything. Not a single word. Chrollo hummed happily as he read his own and it only cemented the fact that he was horribly out of his league.

“What’s your favorite?” he asked, desperate for some kind of hint to work off of. His leg jiggled incessantly beneath the table.

Chrollo was ethereal in the gentle candlelight, even more so when he smiled. “I’m partial to the rolls. They’re just so pretty.”

 _You’re pretty_ , Phinks thought. He barely registered that Chrollo was still talking, asking something about what his favorite was. Favorite? The most exotic food he ever ate was the questionable take-out Feitan sometimes brought over. Flushed, he stammered through a reply. “Yeah,” he gave, “yeah, rolls are good. Very pretty.” He still had no idea what he was talking about.

And just like that, the waitress appeared to take their orders. Phinks tried not to fidget too much under her gaze, her obviously judging look at his neatly pressed tuxedo in the three-star restaurant. “What’ll you have?” she asked, directing it at Chrollo more than him. He really didn’t blame her.

“I’ll have the spider roll,” Chrollo decided, sparing the waitress a glance before smiling encouragingly at Phinks. His fingers stretched out to touch Phinks’s hand where it rested near his glass. “And some miso soup please.”

Phinks hardly registered the woman waiting for his order, too busy with his brain short-circuiting at how soft Chrollo’s hand felt. She grunted irritably and he broke from his daze, “I’ll have the same,” coming out before he really understood what he was saying.

He watched her walk off, turning back to find Chrollo leaning forward on the table staring at him. Phinks jumped and nearly overturned his water glass.

“You really do look nice in that,” Chrollo murmured, low and intimate from across the table. “It’s not often you get a date who’s able to overdress and still pull it off.”

He almost choked on his spit, somehow managing to make it sound like a laugh. “Well you know me, always trying to impress. I’m just happy you said yes.” It was so hard to think with Chrollo’s fingers teasing at the cuff of his jacket, the sensitive skin of his inner wrist.

“I’m very happy you asked me.” Chrollo rested his head on his free hand, looking at his through his eyelashes. The turquoise of his earrings twinkled in the candlelight. “I knew you’d be able to show me a fun evening.”

The waitress chose that moment to arrive with their food, two plates of neatly rolled sushi, their bowls of weird soup following. Phinks could have cried from relief and he downed his water while Chrollo was distracted. God he was so thirsty, his face so warm. He copied Chrollo, forcing a smile as he took his chopsticks in hand and looked down at the plate of strange food that he had no idea how to eat, searching for something familiar. This was a spider roll, right? That’s what Chrollo had said at least. It couldn’t possibly be real spider or anything like that. He watched Chrollo pick up a piece of sushi, blushed horribly as he admired the inner mosaic. God he was gorgeous, even if he did willingly eat spiders.

“I hope you like it,” Chrollo said pleasantly. “The soup is one of my favorites!”

There were some sort of floating white chunks in his soup and he didn’t quite feel brave enough to try it just yet. Chrollo dipped his piece in something he was pretty sure was soy sauce, biting into the toothsome rice with a soft moan of appreciation. His dark eyes opened after he swallowed, looking straight at Phinks. They were heavy with expectation.

Hot, embarrassed, and panicking, Phinks grabbed for the first thing on his plate to look even somewhat familiar to his woefully inept palette. On the corner of the dish he spotted green and it looked like salvation.

Plucking it up with his chopsticks with a skill level born of countless Chinese take-out nights, Phinks went for it. “Oh, I love avocado,” he exclaimed, popping the blob into his mouth without a second thought, simply relieved to find something he could handle on his plate.

Chrollo dropped his chopsticks, his mouth falling open in shock. Phinks stared back, confused for all of a second before his mouth promptly burst into flames. Sweat beaded his forehead, his lower back, and he tried to play it cool.

“Oh my god, Phinks,” Chrollo said, fear and concern bright on his face. “That was raw wasabi. Are you okay?” He stretched out his hand and brought it to Phinks’s forehead, his skin blessedly cool.

Phinks couldn’t breathe, let alone reply, so he nodded as black spots covered his vision.

He was unconscious before Chrollo had a chance to touch him more, which was the real tragedy.

oOo

Quiet beeping greeted him, along with the heady scent of Chrollo’s cologne. Phinks’ cracked his eyes open, wincing in the bright, sterile light of an emergency room. The oxygen mask over his mouth muffled his confused groan, but he quieted when gentle fingers stroked through his hair.

“Are you awake, Phinks? Do you feel okay?”

It only took a moment to place the voice as Chrollo’s, and Phinks nuzzled into the hand with a tired noise. His throat hurt, his head feeling like he had drank an entire bar and then gone clubbing. Chrollo smiled down at him, sweet and as beautiful as ever, all dressed up like he was—

Phinks sat straight up, nearly dislodging the cords and IV. Oh god. Their date. He had totally fucked up their date. He could hardly hear the angry beeping for the blood pounding between his ears.

Chrollo pressed on his shoulders until he laid back down, dark eyes filled with concern. “Hey, easy there, Phinks. Do I need to get the doctor for you?”

He made as if to leave and Phinks snatched his hand before he could, holding him there as he tried to swallow the embarrassment and shame down his burning throat. “I’m sorry,” he rasped, pulling the mask from his face with his free hand. “I ruined your night, Chrollo. I’m so sorry.”

“You didn’t ruin anything, Phinks,” Chrollo said soothingly, stroking his hair like a mother would a child. “I had a lovely time. You can take me out again when you’re feeling better and we’ll pick up right where we left off.”

Hope blossomed in his stomach like a rose in spring. “You mean it?” he asked, flushing bright red when Chrollo’s fingers laced together with his own.

Cool lips brushed his own and Phinks swore he had eaten a fistful of wasabi, white hot fire spreading through his entire body. The heart rate monitor sang out wildly and when Chrollo pulled away, it was with a knowing smile.

“Yeah,” he breathed, his lips red and so inviting in the fluorescent hospital lighting. “I think I’d like another evening of you in this tux, hot stuff.”

**Author's Note:**

> the embarrassment is strong with this one. i hope you guys liked it! check me out on tumblr (terminallydepraved) and let me know how you enjoyed it and check out more info on my writing! until next time~


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